Daytime diehards

Page Tools

Emily Maguire learns that to underestimate fans of soap opera is to form enemies.

Soap operas are unrealistic trash and anyone who gets caught up in the drama is mentally lazy, sentimental and probably not very bright. So says the conventional wisdom, but I recently discovered that several of the cleverest women I know are devotees of American soap.

I mustn't have covered up my sneer fast enough because they launched into a passionate defence of soap. Their arguments failed to persuade me that soap operas are more socially relevant than literature or theatre, but the way in which these women reacted as a group fascinated me.

They picked up on each other's points and developed them as though the debate had been rehearsed. Two women, who had met only that evening, bonded instantly on discovering a shared favourite character that the others didn't much like. And it struck me that I'd seen this sort of scene before, however it was always men bonding instantly and debating passionately, on the topic of sport.

The tendency in critical discourse to associate women with "lowbrow" cultural forms and men with "highbrow" forms dates from the 19th century when novels (often written, and largely read, by women) were considered sentimental fluff compared with the serious form of (largely male-produced) poetry. Because they have traditionally screened during the day when only "housewives" are supposed to be at home, and because their focus is almost exclusively on interpersonal relationships, soap operas have often been seen, like those early novels, as "women's entertainment" and, therefore, inconsequential.

In the grand scheme of things soaps are inconsequential, but then so, too, are football matches, action movies and police dramas, but none of these cop the same kind of ridicule as the soaps. And just as the defeat of a favourite team can ruin a footy supporter's weekend, so, too, the "trivial" events of soaps can have an emotional effect on fans' lives.

A friend of mine was devastated when she heard that Channel Nine's broadcasts of The Young and the Restless and Days of Our Lives would be fast-forwarded four years (in two-hour specials aired recently) to catch up with the United States. Laura, who tapes both shows while she's at work, says: "I know it's ridiculous, but I feel real sadness that I've missed out on so much."

Bronwyn Hardy, a senior writer at Daytime TV magazine, says Laura is far from alone. The magazine received a flood of letters from fans upset at missing out on major events in their favourite characters' lives.

Although fans can catch up on the lost plots through magazines or websites, plot summaries miss the point of soap opera. It's like someone telling you who won the footy before you've had a chance to watch the game, but you still watch the game anyway because you need to see it blow for blow - that's how fans feel about their soaps.

Like supporters who have barracked for the same team since childhood, many fans of Days of Our Lives and The Young and the Restless have followed the programs for decades. Such fans are rewarded for their commitment by being able to enjoy the show on more levels than the casual viewer. The complex, multi-threaded nature of soap storylines means there is never a single "moral" to a story, never a clear-cut ending.

Long-term fans enjoy seeing a character who stole her sister's husband in 1989 being dumped for another woman in 2002. A recent convert will see a crime where the long-term fan sees justice; the first will see betrayal, the second karma.

A single character could represent both the hero and villain throughout their time on a show and fans derive great satisfaction from understanding the twists and turns that have brought a character to a particular point.

But understanding the plot history is only a small part of the enjoyment - the rest comes from discussing the show. A shared love for a particular soap is a real "social lubricant", Hardy says, and the more you know the better. When Hardy tells people she writes about soaps for a living, "women and gay men get very excited and want to discuss all the upcoming and past events and storylines".

This excitement is what I've witnessed among my own group of recently outed soapy friends. On discovering a shared passion, these women began finishing each other's sentences, gesturing wildly and pounding the table in delight. The experts - those who have watched the longest and read all the gossip mags - were quickly established and the less experienced viewers deferred to them. Friendship and kinship meant nothing; the true believers were embraced and the sceptics excluded.

For some women, however, gossiping about their favourite show goes beyond mere social chatter. Talking about soaps can be a way of talking about themselves, of testing the waters on issues such as adultery, abortion and drug use before revealing their own experiences.

One friend, who wants to remain anonymous, admits she had her first ever "sex talk" with her mother after they watched an episode of The Young and the Restless in which do-gooder Cricket helped out two pregnant teenagers. "I was shocked to discover that Mum was far less naive about the sex life of teens than I had assumed." Another friend says that her sister-in-law opened up about being raped after a discussion about the character Jessica's rape on The Bold and the Beautiful.

This comes as no surprise to Hardy, who points out that although the primary aim of the soaps is to entertain, they also bring awareness of a variety of social issues to a mass audience. For example, the soap All My Children has been acclaimed by the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation for its "fair, accurate, and inclusive portrayal" of a teenager coming out as a lesbian and can lay claim to having aired the first ever lesbian kiss on American daytime TV.

It's impressive, but even given the enviable sense of community that soap fans have, I don't think I'm ever going to love soap. Like football, ballroom dancing or folk art, it's just not my thing. But never again will I look down on soap fans as dim-witted losers with no imagination and no friends. I see now that they are rebels, shunning the mainstream in favour of forming a community of their own. In these times of increasing conservatism, that kind of radicalism is something to admire.

Emily Maguire is the author of Taming the Beast (Brandl & Schlesinger)